


From Isla to Iron

by bluelipsonbrokenglass



Category: Jurassic World (2015)
Genre: Apartment Life, Fluff and Crack, Gen, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2015-09-01
Packaged: 2018-04-18 11:08:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4703834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluelipsonbrokenglass/pseuds/bluelipsonbrokenglass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Owen Grady moves to NYC and learns to share an apartment with a loved one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From Isla to Iron

It was surprisingly hard getting used to normal life again, as Owen Grady came to realize. He had become comfortable on Isla Nubar, living in his bungalow alone, spending his days training his raptors.

Then, of course, had come the disaster that was the Indominous Rex. That was an adventure he wasn’t likely to get over anytime soon. Sure, he handled the situation best he could, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t all terrifying as hell.

Still, he’d survived, and he was rewarded with a nice apartment in downtown New York City. Sure, it was noisy, and sure, it wasn’t exactly cheap, but he was no longer living alone in the middle of an island forest. Now, he was living with someone he loved in the middle of a city forest.

Or “the iron jungle”, as it’s so appropriately called. Not so much a forest.

But life was good, now. He was still able to work with animals—trainers were hard to find, he learned, and the Central Park Zoo appreciated his help—and his apartment was easily affordable.

Unfortunately, his roommate was much messier than he thought she’d be. After a long day at work, the last thing he wanted to deal with was mess. And yet…

Garbage on the floor, food scattered all over the table and kitchen counters, his own clothes discarded on the ground...

“Hey! Hey!” he scooped down to grab a discarded shirt, “This again? Really? Would it kill you to stop going through my stuff? Or at least put it back?”

Owen followed a trail of his clothes into the kitchen, picking up the clothing and stuffing it under his arm.

“How do you manage to make such a mess of the kitchen every day?” He reached for the milk carton abandoned on the kitchen island and took a quick whiff, “Urg, again with letting the milk spoil?”

He grumbled to himself as he dumped the spoiled milk down the drain, daring to turn to the living room to assess any damage there. Of course, more of his clothes were scattered about, along with garbage—paper, tissues, granola wrappers, a few empty and chewed up water jugs…

Owen found his roommate silently curled up on the couch, watching him with curiosity as he walked into the room.

“Blue, really? Really? How many times do I have to tell you? Off the couch. Your couch privileges are still revoked after you ate all the pillows last week, don’t think I’ve forgotten.”

Blue let out a dejected-sounding series of clicking noises, slowly sliding off the couch and around the coffee table, nudging a pile of plastic water bottles with her nose.

“Listen, Blue, this is getting ridiculous. I can’t keep coming home to this! I don’t mind how much you eat, but clean up after yourself, for God’s sake. And stop messing with my clothes!” He shook the pile of shirts in her face, “These are for wearing, not for playing with!”

Blue hung her head, he tail curling up by her feet as she sheepishly looked up at her Alpha.

The pitiful look she gave him softened his heart, ever so slightly. He let out a sigh, “Well, you didn’t rip any holes into them this time, I suppose.”

The raptor let out a sound similar to a purr, her head perking up ever so slightly.

“But, don’t think that doesn’t mean you’re not still in trouble! Have this mess cleaned up before I get out of the shower, I mean it.” He pointed at her, his expression unwavering and serious.

Blue just opened her mouth and showed off her teeth, before clamping down again on the pile of trash on the table. She stalked over to the trashcan against the wall, tail swishing happily as she went. Owen watched her begin to clean, shook his head, and let out a sigh. He walked past her and to the bathroom, to wash away the day’s sweat and dirt.

One good thing about Blue, Owen realized, was that she could really clean up, given a reason. The apartment was nice and clean by the time he walked back into the dining room, entering just as Blue hopped down from a kitchen counter after unloading the rest of the clean mugs from the dishwasher. She hurried to his side, cocking her head to the side, asking for a sign of approval.

Owen scanned the room, crossing his arms casually, “Hmm… yeah, lookin’ good. If only I could find a way to get you to clean up before I get home.”

Blue released a sound very similar to a laugh—if raptors could laugh—and bumped Owen with her head.

Owen rolled his eyes, patting her head, “Come on, let’s go watch some TV. And no—you can’t sit on the couch.”

The raptor made a disappointed noise, but listened to her Alpha and plopped herself down on the floor in front of the couch, waiting for Owen to sit down and turn on the TV.

“So, what’ll it be today? More documentaries on large cats?”

Blue let out a happy chirp in agreement, dragging a bag of already-popped popcorn onto the floor in front of her, tearing off the top half of the bag with ease, spilling popcorn everywhere.

Owen watched her with a sigh, “Blue, you should get a job. Really. You need to start pulling your own weight.”

Her response was to nudge the newspaper on the coffee table towards Owen, who picked it up to find it folded to show the jobs section, with a single article circled.

“Burger flipper? Really? You know you’re not allowed to eat the burgers you flip, right? You have to serve them to the customers.”

She ate the newspaper in response.

Owen patted the top of her head, “It’s okay, Blue. You’ll find something that suits you soon.”

**Author's Note:**

> Haha, get it, from isla to iron? Iron jungle? Okay sorry.


End file.
